Dilogy - Tis the time to start afresh
Dil´o`gy n. 1. (Rhet.) An ambiguous speech; a figure in which a word is used an equivocal sense.
Everything has been pretty good lately, as opposed to the past. Moved out of an apartment into a new one, now sharing with a girlfriend of mine. Leaving three years of languishing in an expensive and run down shit hole downtown, managed by a greedy fuck of a landlord. Yes, yes...same old story, same old crap. But what do you do? The plumbing in that place! Jeez, and that disgusting a-hole blames the tenants. Major fantasy was killing the guy then trying to stuff his body parts down the sink holes. Cops bash down my door, I am sitting drinking green tea. I just say. "You know he blamed us for this decrepit dump that he was going to sell to a developer anyway..." The cops with their guns pulled out look around the apartment. I yell out as they look into the kitchen at the blocked sink. "...he is the cause for the blocked up pipes y'know, you can see for yourself." . Ok, I'm no psycho, just humor, trying to be funny, so relax. So, tis the time to start afresh. Like I said all is well. Feeling calm and content, my girlfriend rules, she is so cool. Place is bigger, kinda loft like. Our jobs are shit, the country and economy is shit, in fact fucked up, except for this very cool moment in time. I hope it stays for awhile. We had some parties recently, they were great, just chilled sessions. It's like people we know are kinda resigning themselves for Armageddon...be cool, I'm just being funny again. What I mean is, this is it, we are kinda fucked. We let the morons run the world and they have fucked it, and we kinda let them do it. An acceptance now, there is more of us and the reality is, we, us, people, humans are just ants at the end of the day. All trying to find some bliss where ever that may be. Do ants have bliss? Insects? Pleasure? I dunno. But what I am trying to say when everything is fucked up, I mean you know it's all fucked up. So you don't pretend anymore, you just deal with it, thankful for small mercies, you enjoy them and you don't care. Do you strive for greatness? No, these days you just live now. My other friend, John Travlos, leaves college with a law degree, massive debt like huge fucking amount owed to the banks. Does he get a job in a law firm. Nope. Works now as a barista in a tiny little coffee shop, makes cappuccinos and lattes all day long. He walks around the city trying to find free Wifi hot spots. He is poor, young, educated and broke...and white too. Just wanted to add that, us whites have had a wake up call. But like I said, don't care, we don't care, no on cares about this anymore. Injustice? For every paramilitary looking cop on a street corner there is ten of us...yeah, you see where I am going with this...huh? So we don't have arguments with others on how or why or what we are going to do about it all. We drink a lot of alcohol, but we are not alcoholics. We have cats because they don't give a fuck about anything and they purr a lot. Like Charles Bukowski said, they (cats) know something we don't and they don't care if we find out, which could be the meaning of life, in fact, they (cats) can't seem to work out why we haven't worked it all out. Patient creatures. That is why they rule the universe. Our other friend reads Kafka, she is slightly younger. That's ok. We were all tripping on San Pedro cactus one night. True! Chopped about three huge stems of it, ate the sour tasting horrible flesh. Waiting 10 minutes and it kicked in, we all decided that the trip was to question why humanity is stuck in a wash cycle. Cats have the answer. We got as far as thinking there is a suppression effecting our cosmic flow, blocked by our negative feedback emotions, humanities broken and scarred memories. That the wash cycle is stuck, but not for long. The machine will just blow up. We all agreed on that point. There was a pause as the trip reached a crescendo, lots of colors, loud cat purring, sounds of people having sex...Looked around and none of us were getting laid at that point in time, we were all dressed. Maybe neighbors. We saw stars, my cell phone spoke. It sounded sick, like it was dying. Weird orange color shining in from the street. We thought aliens, none of us were freaking out. Not that kinda drug. Anyway, no real conclusion, no more than what we thought before, it was pretty evident that even when you are tripping, nice experience, some details to add to the mix. The questions still remain. Like I said, you just roll, trip, drink, fuck, enjoy and live it out. Question things, absolutely. But enjoy this life. Saviour bliss and always, always start afresh.
Comments
Post a Comment